Are You REALLY A Winchester?
by Happygoddess2003
Summary: You're Sam and Dean's younger sister and you couldn't be more different from them. You love your brothers, but hunting sucks: You could break a nail! Plus, all that scary stuff! I own nothing Supernatural.
1. Chapter 1

**Are You REALLY A Winchester?**

I'd been hoping the brothers would be home by now. I was going stir-crazy in the bunker and they were already two days late. I picked up my phone and hit "Sammy."

"Hope, you ok?" he said, picking up on the first ring.

"I would be if you guys would get home already!" I snapped back at him.

"I know, I know – we should be home soon."

"Okay - "Winchester soon" or Regular-Life People soon?" (I preferred Regular-Life People" everything, compared to what I usually got.)

I could hear Dean in the background telling me to stop whining and him telling Dean to shut up.

I really wasn't whining. It had been, like, two weeks. They know I need to go to the mall on the weekends. They were so freaking selfish sometimes! Plus, it was scary here alone.

"Saaammmm.."

"Half an hour, tops, ok? You okay, Little?"

"No, I'm not okay. First, I miss you guys. Second, I miss the mall and I need my nails done and third – it's freaking scary here without you, and I have nobody to watch Netflix with. I keep hearing things at night, then I'm awake with the lights on. Can you just hurry home? Please?"

"I promise we'll be home soon and get you out for awhile ok? Have you slept much at all? You're on speaker now, by the way…"

"I just leave the night light on all the time, but that's a drag, too," I answered.

I heard Dean laugh. "Night light? You're fifteen! Are you even a Winchester?"

"Just because I'm not like you doesn't make me less. You're such a meanie, Dean! I don't care if I'm not like every other Winchester. I like make up and doing my hair and reading magazines. It's what I'm supposed to do!"

Dean sighed. "Hope, I was just yanking you. I know you're a real Winchester and I wouldn't change a hair on your pink colored head."

"Good, because I don't wanna be like you guys. Just come home soon ok? Sammy can you turn off speaker?"

I heard a click sound.

"You're off. What's up?"

"Well… could you just make a lot of noise when you come in so I don't freak out? I mean, just in case I'm way back in my room? And can I move my room? Oh yeah, and I saw this shirt online…"

"Honey, okay, I get it. We can talk when we get back in, like, twenty minutes, okay? Just chill and we will see you soon. Love you, Little," Sammy's voice soothed me from the other end. "Dean says he loves you, too."

"Yeah, okay, just hurry up. And promise you won't go away again for awhile. I hate being here alone more than I do going with you," I complained.

"See you soon, Hope. Your room better be clean," he warned.

"Ugh – slave driver! Bring me a treat, okay?" I asked.

"I'm hanging up now," Sammy said patiently. Then he did, just like he always did what he said he would do.

I went to do what I could with my room, thinking along the way how different I was from my brothers. No wonder Dean jokingly wondered if I was really a Winchester. I just wanted to shop and have fun – no matter how much they tried to get me to at least research, I wouldn't do it. I loathed the hunting life – I was a girl and I didn't wanna be forced into anything! Hunting was not fun, and it took my brothers away from me all the time. It always felt like strangers were more important than I was.

"HOPE, we're home!" Dean's voice boomed extra loud. Finally! I ran down the hall in my pink fuzzies and threw myself at them both.


	2. Chapter 2

I was in my bedroom and I couldn't stop screaming.

The television was on, and I'd been told to "do a better job cleaning this time" by Sam. I thought I did an okay job the first time, but he found all the places I hid my stuff when I really don't _feel_ like cleaning. I had so many other plans for today – cleaning was not one of them.

 **An Hour Before:**

"Hopie, before we go anywhere outside this house, put _everything_ in this pile back where it belongs," he told me, pointing to Mount Hope, a humongous pile he'd made from all the crap he'd found. _(He always got so worked up over little things!)_

I was busy studying my nails, they needed filling and I was dying to try out this new look _(French with a line of silver along the white tip and then gelled over – it looked so cool.)_

I felt his hand touch my elbow. "Hey," he said softly, "Did you hear anything I said? You okay?"

"It's hard for me to concentrate when these nails look so deformed!" I huffed. "Look at them, Sammy!" I held my hands out like claws, emphasizing my point. "I have deformed nails and it's your entire fault," I sulked.

He smiled and palmed my face. "You most certainly do NOT have deformed _anything_ , you brat. Just get cleaning and then we'll take you out," he chuckled. "Quid pro quo," he added, leaving my room.

"I don't speak Spanish you idiot!" I yelled after him. "Learn to speak English, this is America ya know!"

 **Present:**

Dean and Sammy came barreling through my door in a panic.

My screaming had stopped. All I could do was point at the wall.

"What is it? What do you see? Spirit? Demon? This place is warded up the ass! Where is it?" Dean shouted to me.

Sam came up, checking me for – I don't know, whatever he checks for when things happen. "Little, what is it? Talk to me!" he said, tilting my chin up and giving me the once-over.

I finally found my voice.

"It's… it's… BEAUTY AND THE BEAST!" I screeched excitedly, pointing at the television. "Look, it has Emma Watson and that hot dude from Downton Abbey in it! OMG! Look at them in the ballroom!"

Dean was staring, Sammy frozen.

"Oh, for the love of God…" Dean panted, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. "You have GOT to be kidding me."

He came forward toward me with his hands in his hair, turning his head sideways in front of me.

"Ya see this? Ya know what this is? It's GREY HAIR, Hope… and every single one of them has come from YOU! Not rugarus, not vengeful spirits, nope! YOU!" he grit out through his teeth.

He did not share my enthusiasm. Oh well.

I grabbed his wrists and jumped up and down.

"Take me! You have to, Deans (using my special nickname for him never hurt)! Let's go today, can we? Can we?" I pulled on his arms and yanked him around, pretending to dance with him.

"Dear God, Sammy – will ya do something with her?" he said, letting me dip under his arm and do a spin.

"Do what, exactly?" he asked, feigning innocence. "She is certifiably Winchester-crazy, there's nothing either of us can do with her," he laughed.

I reached out and took Sammy's hand and pulled him into my "tiny dance jam." (We called it that since I was barely five feet.) It was crazy – they lifted me up and I did a back flip in the air between them. They threw me around and caught me and spun me until I was dizzy.

They had been gone way too long this time.

"Okay, okay," I said, pausing for some air. "I know the perfect thing you can do with me!"

They looked down at me with mock-anticipation.

"Take me to the mall to see Beauty and the Beast!" I squealed, knowing in a few hours I'd be munching popcorn with extra butter, wedged between my two favorite people in the world. Then we'd shop and I'd get my nails done. Eating out would happen, too, at someplace that was _not a diner_. It was gonna be awesome.

"Hey, Little," Sammy said, bringing me back to reality. He pointed at my unfinished pile. "Better hustle," he said, winking.

"Oh, 'quid pro' to your 'quo', too, Sammy," I said, scurrying to put an end to that pile. I hid my grin. My brothers were home!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and kind words. I own nothing Supernatural.

 **Chapter 3:**

There was a light knock on my door and Sam peeked his head in.

"You good, Hopie?" he asked, giving me his "you're my special sister smile." It was brilliant and only for me. _(I wouldn't have done well with other girl siblings. I liked being the only girl and I liked having my brother's attention, at least when they were around to give it to me. Easiest said: I didn't like to share my brothers with anyone.)_

"Yep," I answered, pulling my hair to do a side-braid while simultaneously admiring my silver-lined nails. I was super good at multi-tasking!

"Ya know, the side braid is really underrated, don't you think, Sammy?" I mused. "I mean, just to be able to pull it off in the right way, making sure it lies flat…"

He coughed. That was Sammy-speak for "I don't have time to indulge all your girlie-ness right now, so hush." I looked up from my braid to see he had walked across my room and was standing in front of me with a grin.

"What?" I asked, innocent to what was amusing him. Side-braids are really nothing to mess around with unless you really knew what you were doing. Idiot. For someone with so much hair potential he could really be a tool.

He reached down and lifted me up under my arms and over his head – he called them "Hope Lifts" – sometimes he would see how many he could do before throwing me back down on the bed. Once he did fifty two – he was wicked strong.

This time he didn't though, he just pulled me all the way up onto his shoulders. I hated being up that high and he knew it! It scared me and I always felt like I was two seconds from a spinal cord injury no matter how strong he was.

I dug my hands into his hair, pulling. "Let me down! You know I hate this! Foul! Unfair! And you're ruining the side-braid!" I huffed.

He reached behind me and held my back like he always did.

"You have to get over this fear. I'm NOT gonna let you fall, honey," he said with a chuckle.

"It's not the falling, it's the landing and crunching that scares me," I pouted. I hated it when the bros spontaneously decided to try to "break me" of any of my fears.

"I'm an American and I have rights, Sammy! I want down – NOW!" I emphsized my point by grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking again. "I'm telling Dean!" I threatened, sucking in a lungful of air, readying myself.

"Dean's the one who sent me in here to get you," he grimaced, "And no hair pulling," he said, giving my calf a half-hearted smack. I smacked him back on the top of his head. "No hitting!"

We were in the kitchen now – Dean leaning back with his chair on two legs and a shit-eating grin on his face.

"So, Sammy, how's the Little doing with her fear of heights?" he asked as he eyed me.

"How's she look?" he answered, barely containing his laugh. _(Who laughs at their only sisters' terror?)_

"Terrified and furious. I think it's time we move it up to the next level – duct taping her to the ceiling until she's over it."

Sam's shoulders started shaking up and down from laughing, but his hands stayed firm on my back. "You ready, Hopie-Dopie?" _(I hated that nickname)_ "Lean forward…"

"No! No, Sammy, I swear to God, don't you do it! Don't you flip…!"

And just like that he had taken me from his shoulders and flipped me forward onto the kitchen floor. I hated that feeling in my belly when you move down fast.

I glared back and forth at both my brothers – I started to feel my eye twitch!

"You two – my eye's twitching! That can become a disabling disorder!" I looked at Sam. "I hope you're happy now – what if I go cross-eyed?"

Sam and Dean lost it then, totally flat-out holding their stomach laughing. "Hope, you can't go cross-eyed from an eye twitch, honey," he said, slinging his arm across my shoulder and wiping a tear that slipped from the crinkle of his eye.

"I totally hate you both right now," I said, eye still twitching. "I need an ice pack before this eye thing goes totally out of control."

Dean got up and went to the freezer. "Because everyone knows ice packs cure eye-twitches," he said, wrapping a Ziploc up for me.

He handed it to me with a wink. "But hey, on the up side – I'd give you an 8.5 on that landing."

SPNSPNSPN

"Okay, well if I've given you you're laugh for the day, I'd like to go back to braiding my hair," I said with my sulky face. My sulky face was like their kryptonite! I had it perfected. It was created to induce guilt, ensure positive attention, and ultimately put a few extra bucks in my pocket. I turned my eyes down, the ultimate final blow – reaching up to my hair and saying forlornly "I almost had it, too, the perfect side-braid," I murmured, trying to figure out how to forlornly walk away.

"Not so fast, Little," Sammy said, turning me and steering me toward the living room, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

I didn't want to go into the living room. No. I stopped walking, locking my knees, but he just kept sliding me along the floor, toward the horrible living room. Dean followed up behind us and I was planted between them on the sofa. This always meant something bad, like they were leaving me again.

"No," I said, resting my forehead on my hands with my elbows on my knees, forgetting the fake sulky face and forlorn walk. My pink hair spilled forward and blocked my face, which was totally my intention. I didn't want them to see my face. See my fear. See my sadness. Or ugh – worse – my tears ruining my make up.

"Hope, it's what we do," Dean said, putting his hand on my knee.

"It isn't what "we" do. It's what YOU and SAMMY do. Am I that horrible to be around? Why is it not okay for me to be me? "Oh, I don't care. I don't want to know. It's not like you're the only two hunters on the planet. You just hate being here with me. You both just … can't stand being around me for more than a few weeks at a time, because I'm not like you. You wish I was different. You wish I wore clomping boots and flannel. You want me to be… not me, so you leave me behind," I said evenly.

Sam's hand came down and pulled back the side of my hair and I looked down further – dammit, I worked hard on this make up!

"Hope, look at me, please," he said.

"No. Just go pack and leave me a note telling me where you'll be and when you could possibly return, unless you're killed by some new horrible thing. I don't want to look at either of you."

"Well," Dean said, pulling back the other side of my hair, "This time you need to go pack, too. It's a longer hunt and we don't want to be away from you that long. So go start packing your seventeen bags, brat."

The only thing worse than being left alone in the bunker of horrible sounds and dungeons was actually GOING with them on a hunt. Everything smelled like paid-for sex and vomit. This would only be the third time I went with them, ever. The first time I went because I didn't know any better – it sounded like fun! I envisioned my own adjoining room with a Jacuzzi, full sound system, stocked fridge and a pool. I'd work on my tan…

After that… memorable experience, I refused to ever go again. They literally carried me to the Impala and locked me in. They packed my bags, which made me look like a "Person From Wal-Mart" for the entire trip, and they forgot all my most important products: My MAC cosmetic kit, my Clinique facial cleansing routine, and all my hair stuff except a brush, an elastic, and a clippie. Oh yeah, and razors. _(How do they live like that? Do they even have brains?)_

"I want to stay here," I said, now looking up. I grabbed a Kleenex and dipped it into my ice pack and started rubbing my face to remove the streaked mascara.

"You have to come, Hope. This time could be longer. A lot longer. Here are your options: Go pack your stuff or I'll go pack your stuff", Sam said, not even looking a bit sorry.

"You could at least attempt to be sorry."

"I'm not – you'll be safer with us. Now go start, we're leaving in the morning, and that gives you less than twenty-four hours to figure your stuff out." _(He was trying to be funny but really, twenty-four hours? Cave man.)_

I got up from between them and climbed over Sam, not saying anything, making my way through the kitchen to the hall.

"And Hopester?" he added, "Keep it to four bags."

Oh, it was on.

"FOUR bags? How do you expect me to travel with only four bags? Well, that better not include my purse and my keep-with-me baby duffle! And find a place that doesn't have a "6" or an "8" after its name! And a HD TV! And I'm bringing my own linens and snacks!" I shouted back to him.

I hit my room and started planning outfits, music, and an emergency backup supply of lip gloss.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi guys! Thanks for reading! This one took a turn! I own** **nothing Supernatural. I own Hope. Read, review, and follow me if you feel so inclined. Thank you! Also, check out the MY REALITY series HailstormJen invited me to co-write with her, she's so talented. It's on her page!**

"There's too many, Hope. Shoulda named you HopeLESS !" Dean stammered at me, eyeing the pile of necessities I'd packed for their hunting trip. "You have to cut back. I said four. There's six here. Do the math."

"I NEED this stuff, Dean. You have no idea what it's like for me, not knowing what climate you'll drag me off to next. I need to be prepared. A frizz halo would be a catastrophe... I've already cut my make-up back to a bare minimum of pinks and peaches." I let out my dramatic sigh. "What more do you want from me?" I huffed, blowing a strand of pink hair off my forehead.

"I want four," he said firmly, but I could see the corners of his lips twitching upward.

"You're a Neanderthal…" I started in…

"Well, I can cut it back to two easily," he said, reaching into my pile.

"NOOOOO," I screeched, pitching myself in front of my pile like a mother bear protecting her cubs. "I'll do it myself – but just so ya know, split ends can really ruin color-treated hair, so that's on YOU!" I huffed, pulling products from my bags.

"Well, I don't even know how I'll manage to live with myself," he said with a straight face. _(Ooooh, he could be so snarky. He washed his hair most of the time with plain soap anyhow. Seriously.)_

I made a split-second decision to ditch most of my extra shoes. I could easily get by with four to six pair. I began dragging those bags back toward my room. Sammy came behind me and took them out of my hands, lifting them high over his head.

"Show-off," I muttered. I noticed something, though.

"Wait – Sammy you took my MAC case by mistake! That's not negotiable!"

"I don't understand why you think you need all this crap on your face, Hopie – you're a natural beauty," he said sweetly.

"If you knew how much time it took for me to get this natural look thing going, you wouldn't be saying that!" I explained. "You guys are clueless. There's a SYSTEM to all… _THIS_ ," I said, taking my pointer fingers and swirling them around my face and hair.

"Hope – you're crazy," he laughed as he delivered my extras back into my room. "Did you go to the bathroom?" he asked _(Sam was under the impression I was still 4 years old and couldn't really feel my bladder unless one of them reminded me.)_

"Well, gee, let me think…Uhhh… No, because I don't need to? Ya know? Like, I'm fifteen years old. I know if I need to pee, Sam."

He gave me that superior look he sometimes gives. "Well, just try to go again before we leave, ok?"

I gave up. "Okay, Sammy, I'll try," I said, knowing nothing less would appease him.

"Okay, meet us by the stairs in five – and don't forget to wash your hands," he added.

"Oh, shut up already," I moaned _(mostly to myself.)_ God help me, I was about to get in the Imp _(Dean hated it when I called her that, but hey – she took my brothers away from me all the time. She was the Imp to me. Simple.)_ Who knew how long I'd be travelling in that back seat.

I decided Sam was right. I might as well try to go.

SPNSPNSPN

"Kentucky? Ken-freaking-tucky?" I repeated.

"Oh, calm down Ms. Superior! Just hear this out," Dean said.

"I'm not like that, Dean! You know it. _(I really wasn't. My brothers raised me to judge people based on who they are. My brothers raised me right.)_ It's just… Really? I can't imagine there being any sushi for miles! You know I have "Sushi Tuesday" EVERY Tuesday! Do you blame me?"

"Annnd…. This is why we waited to tell you until after you were locked in with us, Hope," Sammy said, turning to give me his best disappointed look. _(Never works with me.)_

"I have NOTHING against Kentucky! I just was hoping for something more… mall-ish," I sulked. "My problem is why we have to go. What you have to do. You know it scares me! All that salt, and your angel friend poofing in and out, scaring the shit outta me…"

"Hey, watch it, sweetie. Do you kiss your brothers goodnight with that mouth?" Dean asked, winking at me in the rear view mirror, but his eyes were not happy. _(He was serious. They both really didn't like me swearing at all. One time Sam almost swatted me!)_

Sam tapped his eye with his finger and pointed at me, his signal that he's watching me. Everyone thinks Dean's this big hard ass, but Sam can be incredibly intuitive and … well, sometimes it's creepy how he knows when something's up with me. Dean – he's a lot easier on me, except with the swearing. They love me, I know. They don't want me to turn out like all the girls they've seen out – THERE. The diner girls and the bar girls. They protect me from the real world and from the other world that always tries to take them from me. It's hard. It's hard to know that every time they leave me, it may be the last time I see them. I cry no matter how hard I try not to. Even though they call and skype with me, It's not the same. Why us? Why do we have to live this life? I hate everything about what they have to do. I hate that other people's lives come before them. I hate it all. Despite that, we make it work. They are my best friends, my fathers, my MOTHERS, my brothers. They are everything, even when they're jerks.

SPNSPN

My leg was shaking…. No…. Someone was shaking my leg…

"Hope, sit up…" It was Sammy.

I shifted in the back seat and got myself upright. We were pulled over at one of those horrible rest areas, where everything is … moist. Ugh…

They were staring.

"What"? I snapped, annoyed, cranky, and awake. Just rude.

"Where're your charms?" Dean asked quickly. "Show us your neck."

"Oh for the love of…" I reached up and turned my head so he and Sammy could see the charms I always wear on my lone silver chain. Always.

"They're gone," Sam said, jaw twitching.

"No they aren't – I never take it off, guys!" I reached up to triumphantly prove them wrong. Except it was gone. My protection from all things creepy and lurky and demon-y wasn't there.

I let out a scream. A REAL one. ( _Oh my God, I'm unprotected. Where is it? God, God, God anything can happen to me without it.)_

I believe my screaming went on until I felt Dean's hand clamp firmly across my mouth. Still screaming, just into his hand.

"Okay, okay, Hope – it could have just fallen off. Lift up," he said. I reached for the door handle.

"Hope, NO!" Sam shouted, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me into the front. "You NEVER leave Baby without your charms, remember?" he scolded. _(Warded. Right. The Imp was warded. I was safe in here.)_

"Sammy…Sammy…I…I… Sammy!" was all I could manage. I was babbling. Oh, I knew I should have stayed home. Here I was, babbling in the Imp, without my magic. Crying and magic-less.

Dean was tearing apart the back seat systematically, swearing every minute. Sam had his arm around me, watching him closely. "I told you I should have stayed home. Why don't you guys ever listen to me? What the FUCK am I gonna do now?!"

I froze. I said _fuck_. In front of them both. Sam's grip tightened. Dean looked up, mouth open. "What did you just say, Little?" Sam said, enunciating every word. _(I had to do something. I pulled my "memory loss hysteria bait and switch." It wasn't much of a stretch.)_

I leaned forward, making sure tears were still falling, and wiped my palms across my eyes, smearing my twenty six dollar MAC mascara until I was fairly sure I looked like a raccoon. _(Gross. I know. But this could literally be my butt on the line, I had no shame. I pined for the mascara, though.)_

Opening my eyes really wide, I looked right at him and said "Huh?"

"He said what word just came out of that mouth of yours?" Dean answered for him.

I shook my head back and forth. "I don't know! My magic is gone, Dean – Sammy! I'm scared! _(I was.)_ Whatifsomethinggetsmeandyoucantprotectmefromit?" I let loose in a long wail. I don't even know what I'm saying! Help me! Did you find it? Dean? Sam?" I threw my arms around Sam's shoulders and hid my face in his neck.

Sam immediately went into comfort mode. I felt Dean's hand on my back, and I think I managed to dodge a bullet with them. But barely.

"Shhhh- Hopie – stop, shush….." Sam soothed me.

"I want my necklace!" I sobbed _(for real)._

"We want you to have it too, sweetie," Dean said with no anger in his voice. "We need you to have it."

Sam turned me on his lap, facing Dean and the back seat.

Dean scowled. "Sam, can you get her some Wet-Naps so she can wipe that crap off her face?"

"Wet-Naps?" I said, aghast. "Haven't I been traumatized enough here? My baby duffle has my MAC Wipes-Sized To Go…" Dean man handled my baby duffle and tossed them to me. I began wiping my face off, and was surprised to feel real tears leaking from my eyes.

Dean leaned toward me and put his forehead on mine. "Hey. You don't have to cry, baby. Sammy and I will take care of you. It will be okay, I promise." He looked over at Sam, who nodded.

Sam kissed me on the temple. "We won't let anything hurt you. Ever. Calm down, okay? I'm just glad we noticed it before we stopped and got out."

None of us said anything to that. I knew what that meant and so did they. I would be an open target. _(THIS is why I want NOTHING to do with this life of theirs! I just want to be their sister. I want girl-drama, not monster-drama.)_

Sam handed me a water. "Drink," he ordered. I was worried.

"What's wrong? Am I getting blotchy?" I asked, concerned. _(Blotch was the devil to me. I hope the only one, too.)_

"No, baby, you just need to stay hydrated, right? Drink it all, honey," he said, shifting a little in his seat _(he was backwards – how uncomfortable!)_

I drank the water and watched them. They seemed to be deep in thought. No doubt figuring out a way to get another identical charmed silver necklace to me without leaving the car. I rested the back of my head on Sam's chest.

"Howya doin' babe?" Dean asked, taking the wipes from me and finishing my eyes. Sam took my empty water bottle and whispered "good girl" to me.

"Kinda tired now. I mean, REALLY tired. All that hysteria, I guess," I yawned.

My brothers exchanged THAT LOOK. Oh no.

"Whaddaya do to me, guys? Sammy?" I whimpered.

"Dean? I need a new necklace…" I murmured.

"We're gonna fix it all, Little," he said. "Better than a necklace. I promise."

No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

"You ROOFIED me!" I moaned.

"No, Bub – just want you to be still is all… It'll be okay, we won't let anything happen to you" Sam said, turning and pulling me into his lap in the front seat.

"Roofiers!" I cried, feeling a little drool slide from my mouth. _(Oh gross. This is humiliating.)_

Dean smiled and wiped my drool. "Trust us, Hopie, please? We're gonna make it so you're safe permanently."

"Noooo…..tattoo….please…." I was sinking now.

"Sorry, baby, it's about time for you anyhow. Just to be safe. We love you, Hopie-Dopie," Sam said.

"Hate that nickname," I said, dipping into the darkness and back out.

"Too bad for you, lovey. Go to sleep. Dream of Neiman-Marcus and Vera Wang," he whispered.

"It better be small…" was the last thing I remember saying. It was pitch dark and not a Neiman-Marcus in sight for me.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi, guys! Thanks for all the favorites and follows – I love writing Hope, she cracks me up! If you feel like it, check out the story I'm co-writing with HailstormJen… it's on her page (she's awesome BTW)… it's called My Reality and we've just started Part 5! NOW: On to Hope!**

Chapter 5:

I was dreaming about how my brothers used to play tag with me. They'd always let me win. They'd fall dramatically to the ground when I'd hit them and say "you're IT"… I'd laugh at them _(well, I still laugh at them, but for different reasons)_ … You know how dreams can take a quick turn to the bad? In this one, there was a bee and it kept stinging me – it was on my neck. I kept spinning in circles, trying to slap it away but not matter what, it just stung me and stung me and…

.. I was getting a tattoo. I remembered. Drugged like a common streetie by those brothers of mine! I started to wake up from my stinging dream to my stinging reality.

I was laying on my stomach in one of those hunter places that smell like beefaroni and stale beer. At least my sheet from home was under me. The stinging stopped and I heard voices. Low at first, then a bit louder.

"Dnnn? S'my?" I slurred. _(I was SLURRING!)_

I felt Sammy's hand on my cheek. He and Dean's faces were eye level with mine, blurred and unfocused, but there.

"C'mere, clos'r", I breathed out. I could see them more clearly, so concerned for me

, moving closer. They got close enough.

"Neck?" I asked, starting to come out of it. "Water," I croaked.

"We thought it was the best place to keep it out of sight. You won't even see it," Sammy smiled.

"And your hair will grow back right over it," Dean blurted.

I was awake. I pushed myself up onto my elbows. "You shaved my hair?" I screeched, trying to reach back to feel, but Sammy was so fast. He grabbed my wrist and held it firmly.

"Bub, don't. It's almost done. It's just a little hair at the nape of your neck so it'll grow over it. We didn't want it visible," he explained, looking pretty satisfied that they hijacked my head.

I look a Dean. "You'll be fine," he said, trying to be tough. _(With me? ME? Seriously, he was so thick.)_

I decided to save this conversation for the Imp. When we were alone.

"How much more?"

Some smelly guy stepped into my sight and looked at my brothers. _(I'm not telling him he smells until after, I have some great clinical deodorant packed. I'll make it a gift.)_

"No more than five, Little," Sammy confirmed. _(I began hatching a plan to stab them both with a fork in the back of their necks for five minutes. Each.)_ He reached over and rubbed my forehead. I felt Dean's hand on the side of my head and heard the buzzing start again.

"Just get it over with. Don't touch me," I said in my meanest voice to them both, _(except it was shaking, so I don't think it really came out as hard as I wanted it to.)_

"Shhh, Bub – not leaving you. We're right here. Please don't cry, Little," Sam said, bringing his hand down and wiping my face off.

"I'm not crying," I whimpered. _(But I was. And even though I was mad at them, I needed them, exactly where they were, right now.)_ I squeezed my eyes together as the stinging started again.

"Deep breaths," Sam said, stroking my cheek.

"Almost there, Little. It's so small you won't even know it's there," he said, trying to reassure me.

I knew I was getting too old for my charms. I thought I could keep it all away from me, though. I didn't want anything about their world to tumble into the world I'd created for us, separate from all that scary stuff. I should have known I wouldn't dodge this bullet, though. One thing I knew about my brothers was they would do anything to keep me safe, even if it meant pissing me off – but drugging me, really? A small voice spoke up from inside me, telling me the truth. It really was the easiest and only way they could have done it without scarring all of us for life. I was already a little less mad at them.

The buzzing stopped and I felt strong wiping over the spot.

"Hey! Excuse me Mr. Hunter Torturer, do you mind?"

"Just getting the blood off," he said back to me curtly. Oh, Lord.

Free from being held, I sat up, but felt woozy.

"Get me out of here, or I'm seriously gonna lose it," I said, shaking.

"Okay, Hopie, here we go," Sam said, picking me up under my arms. I wrapped my legs around him while he carried me back to the Imp. I was tired and thirsty.

"I want the sterile gauze and my Eucerin lotion," I asked-demanded. (The ask/demand was a very cagey thing. Had to be said in just the right way or I just came off sounding bitchy and they wouldn't do it.)

My hair was pulled up and my neck hurt. Ugh, I felt so dirty! _(Hunter places, where grime is cool and dirty feet are "in.")_

He helped me get settled, handing me a water, then started digging for my stuff.

"Sorry, Bub – we knew getting this done wouldn't be easy. We always had this planned for you, so you wouldn't remember most of it," he admitted.

"You don't look sorry," I muttered.

"I didn't say we were," he said in that gratingly condescending way he can have with me. "We are never, ever gonna be sorry for keeping you safe. So you can just let that attitude go, Bubba."

 _(GAAH! They make me crazy. They make me love them. They make me hate them and then love them more. I lead a double-complicated life.)_

He fluffed my pillow as I heard Dean open his door. "She okay?" he asked.

"Hello? I'm not deaf, I can hear just fine…"

"Oh, hi Hope - glad to see you awake and so perky," he said sarcastically.

"Oh, go perk yourself," I mumbled.

"Come again?" and "What was that" came from both my brothers.

"I said," I huffed, "thank you for making me safe from your scary world." _(Who was I kidding? I meant it.)_

Dean started the Imp and Sam got in his seat. Finally I could feel the wheels under me.

"Little, here are two ibuprofen, I want you to take them," Sammy said, hanging over the seat. I didn't move. "Now," he said, tapping my shoulder.

"Can't you just leave me alone? See what you two did? Now I have trust issues and I'll probably need therapy and a lot of shopping to get over this!"

"Well, Sam, her dramatic flair is back… knew it wouldn't be long," Dean teased.

Sammy helped me sit up. He had crinkly smile lines in the corners of his eyes.

"Don't laugh at me," I said, trying to stay in my mood.

He looked at me innocently. "I would never do that, Little," he smiled.

"You guys do it all the time," I said, popping the pills and washing them down. "More water please."

"I'll take care of your neck and later I'll show you how to keep it moist. It'll peel in a few days, too."

"You mean like a snake? This is a nightmare," I groaned. "Just don't expect me to start stomping around in flannel and boots. Or to stop conditioning my hair. Or not getting my nails done. And I'll NEVER give up Sushi Tuesdays!"

 _(I actually had a pair of pink Timberlands and they were really cute and surprisingly comfortable. I'd put them on and clomp around, taunting them; it was great.)_

"Wouldn't expect anything of the kind, Hopie," Dean said from the front. "You wouldn't be our Winchester-Paradox otherwise."

Sam stared at Dean. "What?" he questioned, "Yeah, Sam, I know big words, too," he grunted. I giggled.

"There's our girl," Sam said, kissing my forehead. "Try to lay with your face in the pillow, but remember to breathe," he said, totally serious. Sam. I have no words. Like I said, to him I was perpetually four years old.

"I want a bath. And a bed. How much longer? Did you get a nice place for us – please, please, please tell me yes!" I begged.

"Six hours to Kentu-keeeee," Dean yelled from the front.

Sam rubbed some lotion on my neck with sterile gauze while I winced.

"I think you'll be happy with our arrangements, Bubs. Get some rest. We love you so much, Little," he whispered in my ear.

I nodded in agreement.

"Oh, no!" I exclaimed, remembering.

Dean started to slow the Imp down, Sam was in over-protection mode. "What? What?" they peppered me with questions.

"I had the perfect deodorant for that guy," I said, falling back into my pillow. "It's clinical," I said in a muffled voice.

The Imp sped up. "YOU'RE clinical," Dean laughed. "Clinically insane – the only proof so far that you're a real Winchester!"

"Shut up, dude, she's sleeping," Sammy scolded.

"Well, she is kinda crazy," he mumbled. I smiled – I kinda was.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I own nothing Supernatural. I own Hope. I'm loving how different she is from her brothers! Thanks for taking the time to read and follow.

Chapter 6:

"Hey – Hope, we're here," Sam said, shaking my shoulder.

My neck was on fire and I was face first into my poofy pillow. _(I hated being woke up – one of the main reasons I hated going on the road with them. Not the danger of evil… it was having them wake me up, over and over again. Because God forbid you leave me a note…. They loved aggravating me! And the smell of the food… so early – so greasy. I mean, that stuff lingered like a cloud for hours after they left. No kidding. I brought special spray this time called "Odor Neutralizer", plus my Yankee Candle sampler aroma therapy pack. Yay! I came prepared this time.)_

"I can't sleep like this – it's just not working for me," I flopped to my side, wincing.

"Careful – kid, you can't start throwing yourself around like bacon frying in a pan! You're gonna 'cause yourself more pain," Dean chided me.

"You guys don't get it – sleeping with my face in a pillow is very bad for my skin. Very bad," I repeated darkly. "Did you know sometimes people's faces, like, freeze when they sleep like that? Their noses get all smushed down and they can't EVER get it back to its original shape? _(I knew about this because I read it on the internet. There were pictures and everything!)_

They looked at each other and started laughing hysterically. Dean's head was resting on the steering wheel with his shoulders shaking and Sam's head was turned toward the window with his hands covering his face.

"Hey – hey, Sammy – She READ it on the internet! Did ya hear that?"

Sam snorted and waved his hands in front of his face, fanning himself. "Don't make fun of her, Dean – after all – there were PICTURES!" They collapsed against each other in hysterics.

"Go ahead, laugh – I won't take that chance! Look at me – my eyelashes are stuck together! I have like, six eyelashes! This is not funny!" I huffed.

"Okay, okay," Dean said, still trying to get himself under control. "Let's get checked into this swank money-waster."

I blinked to unstick my eyelashes and check out where we were. Dean went in and Sam explained. He was still chuckling.

"Oh, Hopie, I love you," he said, "The things you get in your head… Anyhow, this is our home for at least the next three to four weeks."

"A month?" I gasped. I began to immediately worry about the effects of the hotel hard-water on my hair. "Oh, Sam…" I began.

"Oh, Sam, _nothing_ , Little…We got this place for two reasons. We wanted you to be happy, and we thought we - all of us - deserved a little upgrade from our usual. We have a kitchen, dining room and living room area, two bedrooms, two tv's and wifi. Indoor Pool, Jacuzzi, Fitness Area and Sauna. We have the Kentucky Appalachians right outside our windows," he finished.

I had to admit, it was beautiful. "You're right, Sammy – it's beautiful here."

"Not half as beautiful as my little Bub, even with her eyelashes stuck together," he said with total, unabashed sincerity. _(Maybe this time it would be fun, and they wouldn't have to be gone long, and we could have movie night every night!)_

"My neck just hurts; I know I'm being a crank. It just does," I said, embarrassed.

"Hey, don't ever hide from us, Little. We'll take care of you once we get settled in. We paid extra to have food stocked so we don't even have to go out to the store tonight," he said.

"Sammy?" I asked.

"Yep"

"Is this one a super scary one? Will you have to be away from me a long time because you know… I get scared."

He opened his mouth to answer me, but Dean opened the car door and jumped in the Imp. "Three card keys: Our room awaits!" he announced, pulling forward and down toward our temporary home away from home.

SPNSPNSPN

"Boy, I'm glad we aren't on the first floor," I said, checking out our digs. "It's statistically, significantly more dangerous than being on a higher floor. And I'm not even talking about the scary stuff you guys hunt! I'm just talking about normal people!" I lowered my voice conspiratorially, "You know, creepers and stuff like that."

"If anyone dared creep on you, it'd be the last thing they ever did, Hope. They'd never find the body," Dean said, drinking his beer and reclining in the living room area.

"Well, I'm going to unpack all my stuff – you should see all the space I have in my bathroom! I should have packed more!"

"Oh, honey, you packed more than enough," he said dryly, yelling to Sam for another beer.

"Hey!" Sammy called me over, "let me see your neck."

"After I unpack," I said, excited to get myself arranged and in order. I brought my Egyptian sheets!

"Noooo…NOW," he said, standing in the kitchen by the luxurious full size fridge that matched his height. "The lotion needs to stay in the fridge so it stays cool for your skin, Bubs, so come here – let me see."

"Should she put the lotion in the basket, Sammy?" Dean yelled over. Sam turned and flipped him off.

Sammy was definitely not one to screw around when it came to healthy-like things. If I didn't comply, he would set me up on a regimen just to pay me back for not listening to him! He was brilliant that way. Brilliantly annoying.

I dragged my feet across the floor, heaving a huge sigh, shuffling until he put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around in front of him, muttering something about "dramatics," "only sister," and "trying my patience." I smiled in satisfaction. My job was already done – I had my attention!

I felt his hand sweep my hair up over my neck gently, moving me here and there to see in the best light. I reached back again to try to feel and he smacked my hand lightly. "I thought I told you not to do that, Dude! Seriously – it's still very sensitive and germs can get into it and THAT would be a problem, understand?" Sam sure loved a good infection fight. Both literally and figuratively.

"Jeesh, I guess if people in prison can manage, I can," I said with my hand on my hip. Just then he rubbed his gloved finger over it, emitting a yelp and jerk away from him from me.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, Miss Smart-Ass," he said. "Back over here," he said firmly.

"Deaaannnnn – Sammy's being mean to me and hurting my new tattoo and shaved head on purpose!" I whined to my oldest brother.

"Little, you know by now you better just let him get it over with so you can go do your thing. And what would you know about prison tattoos?" he asked without looking back at me.

"Oh, I know about A LOT of things you guys think I don't know about! You think I don't watch "Lockdown" when you're gone? Well, guys – it's confession time: I, Hope S. Winchester, have watched EVERY season of "Lockdown" on NatGeo AND MSNBC – See? I know things. I can be mysterious, too. HA!" I finished with flair.

Oh, God help me. I heard Sam's voice in my ear, a low even treble. "Go sit at the table and I'll get the gauze and lotion. It has to stay covered and you can't get it wet until it scabs over and peels, got it?"

"Now it's scabbing? I'm gonna be scabbed AND peel? Is there no end to the torment you two put me through?" I pressed.

"Well, if you don't hush your mouth about this I can arrange the cancellation of Sushi Tuesday, mani fill-ins, AND a sore behind for you," Sammy threatened with a glint of humor in his eyes. _(Neither one of them had ever spanked me. They had THREATENED it many times, but I never worried about that. They were wrapped around my little fingers so tight it cut off my circulation.)_

"Okay, okay Dr. Winchester, just get it over with. I'll comply," I sighed. "Can I at least get my mirror so I can see it?" I asked.

Of course he was three steps ahead of me, placing the mirror and an assortment of sterile stuff on the table. "Sorry, Bubba, gotta keep this clean and moist."

"That's what _she said_ ," I griped back at him – he hesitated for a second and turned and looked into my eyes.

"What?" I feigned innocence. "I heard that on Lockdown."

SPNSPNSPN

A half an hour later, I finally got to unpack and watch MY tv. I had taken some ibuprofen and was feeling pretty good. I lined all my MAC Palettes on my dresser, hung each outfit according to color and possible opportunity… and lined the inside of my closet with my shoes, boots, and purses. My bathroom was full of my aromatherapy products, except Dean said I couldn't use anything perfume-y near my tattoo. I was still working on how to wash my hair, because they know I'm not going without that. I am not a primitive.

Dean came in, telling me it was dinner and a movie time. I got to pick the movie because, well… I'm the girl and the youngest, and it's always been that way. I think it's repayment for the idea that every time they leave me may be the last time they see me. I'd rather have a normal life and let them pick all the movies, but this is the life I have. I hate it but I love them, and I try to think of them when picking movies... tonight we were doing all the Bridget Jones movies! A marathon. Dean just brought the whole case of beer out of the fridge and set it on the coffee table in front of us. I was laying between them, and I didn't care – for tonight there were no monsters, no icky sheets to sleep on, and plenty of hot water. Most important, I had Sammy as my cushion and my feet on Dean. It was a good night. I'd worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. And sleep with the light on, as usual.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hi, everyone! I'm so happy you like this one. I wanted to open up the opportunity for you to prompt or suggest a scenario you might want to see Hope in with her bro's. I will do my best and otherwise, continue on! Thanks again. Just feel free to PM me.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I wove a request from MariaKata into this chapter. She asked if I could show Hope pushing the envelope a little with the boys, like a normal teen would. Hope you all like, and I'm sure it won't be the last time she does! Thanks for all the reviews and kind words! I own nothing Supernatural, only Hope.**

Chapter 8:

We'd been here two weeks and I was going out of my mind. I hadn't had sushi once. NOT ONE TIME. My brothers were so focused on this Jimbaja or Hodoovink or whatever the hell their latest monster was that they barely had time for me! I was running out of my back-supply of Paul Mitchell – this was chaos, and I didn't like it one bit! I had about reached my limit with those two … I mean – here I was, living out of a suitcase while THEY got to go running all around, meeting people and having fun.

Salt is not kind to feet, let me just say. It's everywhere, too! Every single window, but the doorway was the worst! Sure, housekeeping came by every day and cleaned it up, but that's not my point! It's the sheer inconvenience of it all! _(I only let her in to do my stuff because Dean has SUCH a stick stuck sideways; I'd have her leave their linens on their beds.)_ I'd get bored and go to the pool, then come back and step in the salt, then the salt would MELT on my feet _(which is a totally gross feeling)_ … I'd sneak back and have to re-do the almighty salt line... It's THEIR stupid salt! GAHHHH!

I love them so much, but sometimes they could be so mean and selfish toward me! For instance, yesterday when they got home they brought me a sandwich on WHITE bread! Just your normal, blah, white bread. Didn't even call me to ask if I wanted honey wheat! How do I live like this?

I can tell you, it's been a rough couple of weeks. I don't know how much longer I can hold on. I have to get out! I have to see the inside of a mall! My nails are growing out at a dramatically quick pace and I need a re-fill. They have no idea how I've been sacrificing.

I was lying on my bed, flipping through the premium channels, none of the shows I liked were on. There was a Game of Thrones marathon on that Dean and Sammy were just about swooning over. Seriously… Dragons? Kingdoms fighting over an iron throne? I just wanted SOMEONE to sit on the flipping thing already. I liked the dwarf prince. He was pretty cool.

I heard the keycard beep in the door and flew into the living room, ready to get the heck out of this prison with my brothers - until the smell… it hit me like wasabi right between my eyes. I slowly backed away from what I can only describe as a smell between a sewage treatment plant and rotten brussel sprouts. Oh no…. No way. I stumbled back until my body hit the opposite wall.

"Hey, Hopie – Need to use your shower while Dean uses the other… Can you believe this smell? Oh, man – this isn't even the worst of it!" Sammy groaned. I could tell he was grossed out, but he still managed to laugh. _(But why? WHYYYY?)_

Dean began to peel off his shirt right there at the entryway. I slapped my hands over my eyes in an attempt to un-see what I had just seen.

"Oh, God, Dean – no… Please… Keep yourself clothed. Get garbage bags. LOTS and lots of them…" I said, blinded, and now trying not to inhale.

I turned to my other older brother, letting my hands fall from my eyes but pointing a very badly manicured finger at him.

"You … you… stay out of my bathroom! Nooooo, Sammy! You smell like ass…butt….I mean…" I shut up. I looked down. I looked back up, hoping they missed it. No such luck.

Oh God, Both of them… the dreaded DOUBLE GLARE. _(All I said was ass… jeesh!)_

"Sit your behind down in that chair and don't move," Sam said curtly. "You're in time out," he said, giving me a _"go ahead, challenge me"_ look.

"Time out? Seriously? I am fifteen years old! I will not be put in time out! This is crazy and unfair," I sulked, crossing my arms.

"Uncross your arms," Dean ordered. "And now, Little, you're in double time out."

"What the heck even _is_ that? That's not even a thing" I blurted, despite my inner voice telling me to stop talking now.

Dean looked appalled and began to do that thing where he starts to talk to himself… "Oh, we will SEE if it's a thing or not. We'll just see!" He looked personally offended.

I looked over at Sammy – who had moved on to his glare/disappointed in me look. Dammit. "I've been sitting all day, Sammy, come on. Time out is stupid," I plead, giving him my weepy doe eyes.

"Not another word, you're in double time out, you heard us, Hope. It's a thing now - for YOU. Keep your butt in that chair until we tell you otherwise, and be glad," Sammy said.

 _(Wait – had the world gone crazy? When did Sammy turn into Dean? When did my brothers turn into smelly meanies? There wasn't even a white bread sandwich for me today. It just kept getting worse and worse. Well, two…I mean three, can play that game!)_

"Be glad? Huh? Be glad for what?" I said, working on my kinda defeated but also snarky voice. I was combining all kinds of attitudes this evening.

They looked at each other. They looked at me.

"That you can sit at all," they said together.

 _(Terrorists. I would not give in to terrorists!)_ "I will not give in to your terrorism!" I said, raising my fist in the air, trying to be funny, but it fell flat. _(What the heck is going on here?)_ I stayed seated, just the same. I gagged a little when I heard my shower turn on. Sam. Hail, Mary… full of Grace. I had just opened a new Chanel body wash! Crap!

SPNSPNSPN

It took them for-ev-er to finish showering, and I think they did it on purpose! My brothers hardly ever treated me like this. I was starting to get annoyed. They were the ones that brought me, they were the ones that made me get that stupid tattoo, and they were the ones leaving me alone every day! The minute I point out the obvious, they get all bunched up panties, and now I'm in this bizzarro world of "double time out."

Sammy came out first, his favorite tee shirt on – it was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. It barely fit him anymore, but he insisted on wearing it when we had a "night in." I guess that was his first hint to me that I wasn't going anywhere tonight. So unfair!

"Did you clean out the tub?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral.

"Nope."

Oh, it was so on.

Dean came out next from the other bathroom, belching loudly and rubbing his belly. Ugh. I mean, my brothers were good looking people, but right now they were just… well, they just needed a couple of banjos and a harmonica, get the picture?

"Deaaan, Sammy didn't clean out my bathtub!" I tattled. I stole a look Sam's way. "Did you use my Chanel body wash?"

The look he gave me told me everything. "Whyyyy?" I moaned.

Oh, his eyes were so hard to look away from once he caught you in them. "Well, Hopie-Dopie, didn't want to smell up the whole place with my smelly, smell-smell," he mocked. Jerk. Used my own words against me.

I stormed up from my time out chair _(really?)_ and bolted for my bedroom, but he caught me easily around the waist and held me sideways against his hip.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you two emotionally damaging me?" I wailed, kicking my feet up in the air. He grabbed my ankles with his other hand. He had the nerve to not even perspire.

"Sammy, I'm really getting mad! Put me down! For real!"

"Sam, she's really getting mad at you. At us. Can't you see you're emotionally damaging her?" Dean said with dry sarcasm.

Sam cocked his head sideways so he could see into my face.

"Are you done with your tantrum, Little?" he asked, his look cutting straight through me.

I twisted and almost got away. "Hey!" he scolded me. "Knock your shit off, Missy. And I mean now." His last words were barely spoken above a whisper and quite honestly, they were a little… intimidating.

He took me over and put me next to Dean on the couch and plopped next to me. He tried to put his arm across my shoulder, but I shook him off. I was still mad.

"He almost dropped you," Dean said. " **You** almost made him drop you." He left the rest up to my imagination. All scenarios ending with me creating a problem for them in their world.

I put my face in my hands, sighing a real sigh this time. No faking or pretending. "I'm sorry for acting so…"

"Bratty?" Sam finished.

"Well, I was going to say 'stressed out'," I replied pointedly.

"What do you possibly have to be stressed out about here? You have everything you need and more, Hope," Dean said, looking confused.

"You leave me alone, still. I go to the pool alone. The only interaction I have is with the maid when she comes…" I slapped both my hands over my mouth. Caught in a trap of my own doing. Shit.

This time Sam's arm came all the way around my shoulder and didn't move when I tried to shrug it off. Dean's hand went to my knee and held onto it.

"You've left the room while we're out?" Dean questioned. "You CROSSED the salt line without us here to protect you?" I felt his hand tighten, just a teenie bit, but there was a vein pulsing at his temple. In, out. In, out. In, out.

I felt Sam's hand move from my shoulder to my cheek, turning me with the tips of his fingers to face him. He was furious up to the tops of his bright red ears. His eyes were sharp and … and… scared… and angry.

"You let someone into this room when you were alone? You let a stranger walk in here without either one of us with you?" he stated rather than asked.

I had to nip this in the bud! They were making this such a big deal. I took a breath.

"It was only housekeeping, Sammy! They come every day! It's their job," I explained.

"Then why didn't they make our beds? Why were sheets left for us, but not for you, huh?" he pressed.

I stammered, caught.

"Bcs I knw you…" I mumbled.

"Speak clearly, Hope. Use your words," he said then, sounding every bit my furious big brother. I dared not even look at Dean.

"Because I knew you would be mad at me, and I missed you and I didn't want you mad at me, Sammy," I said, starting to stupidly cry. "I just wanted you to go do your stuff then us have our time together – I was bored! She was nice. Every day she left me candy," I said.

"You took CANDY from a stranger?" he barked at me. I felt four years old. No – three.

"Well, now that you say it that way, it sounds bad…" I replied weakly.

"You crossed the salt line." Dean.

"Only to go to the pool and Jacuzzi so I could get out of this room!" I defended myself.

"The salt line protects you," he said. "WE protect you," he continued, looking at me with emerald stones of eyes.

"These aren't new rules, baby," Sam said, sounding disappointed. "And now you're in trouble, Little."

"You two haven't taken me out once since we got here! You know I need to get out! You've barely even called me! You – you're out having fun with, ewww, WOMEN…" I accused them.

"Slow down there, Judge Judy," Dean glared. "We planned this place especially for you. We have gone to the Jacuzzi and pool every night. We cook and eat together every night. We let you pick every movie we watch, because we miss you and feel bad about leaving you here."

"Apparently you think we go around picking up chicks in between the whole monster thing, hmmmm, Hopie? Is that what you think? That we would rather be out there with them than with you?" Sam's tone demanded an answer.

"That's what I was thinking. Yes. That you love your hunting so much that you will do anything to not have to be back here with me – your little sister that isn't like you at all. That is afraid of the dark. Who still needs a night light even though she's fifteen! So yes. I haven't had sushi or been to the mall…"

"People are dying, Little," Dean stated plainly.

I put my hands over my ears. "I don't wanna know, don't tell me that!" I cried.

Sammy pulled me over onto his lap and gently took my hands down and held them.

"Just because you don't want to know doesn't make it any less true, right?" he said, wiping my face off with the corner of his sleeve.

"Hope, even though you feel alone and even though you feel right, if you really, really knew you weren't breaking the rules to keep you safe, you would have called us," Dean said.

"Bad reception?" I tried.

"Wrong answer, honey. We call you as much as we can, and we always get through," he stated.

It was true. All of it.

"You guys just don't know what it's like. You… you… I wanna go home! NOW!" I cried onto Sam's shoulder.

"We aren't going anywhere, baby. But you are," Sam said.

I raised my head quickly and looked at the two of them.

"What does that mean? What's going on? I want things to go back to the way they were!" I said pathetically.

"Oh, jeez, dramatic much?" Dean said over me to Sammy.

"Yep," he answered, shaking his head, but his fingers were moving through my hair, trying to soothe me from whatever punishment they were about to dole out.

"I'm making you a sandwich and then you'll take a shower in our room. Then you'll be grounded to your room for the rest of the night," Dean said. (At least Sam would be cleaning out my shower.)

"No electronics," Sam said firmly.

"Barbarians," I scowled at him.

"Don't push us, pumpkin," he said. "You should be getting way more than this, and you know it."

I looked down at his knees and knew he was right. They both were.

Dean got up and started some dinner. "Can I have the honey wheat bread?" I asked pitifully.

"Nope, white," he said without looking up.

"Barbarians, like I said," I repeated. Sam gave me a little shake. "Hush, tiny – you're getting off easy. I'll go get the stuff for your shower," he said, getting up.

"I'll do it," I said, wanting my fluffy towel.

"Nope, you stay there and think about salt lines and taking candy from strangers," he ordered. "Stay," he pointed to me. Jerk.

He came back with my basic stuff, then Dean called me over to the kitchen. Grilled cheese and tomato soup, with a glass of milk.

"This is like, food for a five year old," I sulked.

"Then the food fits the child," he snarked, but gave me a wink.

"I miss sushi," I mumbled.

"What's that?" he asked, throwing more bread into the pan for him and Sam.

Ugh. Bullies. "I said thank you for dinner, Dean." _(Ya big meanie. White bread meanie. Ick.)_

I finished quickly and got up to shower. I could hear Sam running the water in my room, so I was relieved I wouldn't have to deal with that.

"Oh, sorry Little – gonna have to wash out our shower ... I didn't have time to," Dean smiled at me.

I bit my tongue. This was a disaster. They were trying to break me! I'd show them BOTH!

I took my shower, actually a double shower – first to wash the putrid smell of the initial shower cleaning off of me, then my real one. Dressed and ready for bed, I came back out to the living room in my Victoria's Secret PINK shorts set. They were watching Game of Thrones, of course. Some mostly naked chick was walking through a crowd while they pelted her with objects and chanted "Shame – Shame" at her. Lovely. I think it was that Kerleesti or whatever her name was.

"Ready for a tuck in?" Sam smiled at me. I looked at him and Dean, who was watching the pretty much naked chick on TV.

"Dean," I said. He looked up. "Sam," I added. "I'm sorry for being so bratty. I'm sorry for being so hard to deal with. I know you … wish…"

"Hey, hey… You stop right there, Little Pink," Sam said.

"We don't wish anything except for you to always be with us and be happy," Dean clarified. "Come here," he said, arms open.

I hugged my oldest bro, resting my head on him. He rubbed my back for a second.

"All yours, Sammy," he said,

"Okay, it's bedtime for girls who forget the rules that keep them safe," he said, but not in a mean way. He put his hand on my shoulder and walked me to my room.

"Sam?"

"Yep."

"Keep the bathroom light on, ok?"

"Of course I will, sweetie."

"I'm sorry." I was embarrassed.

"Stop that. We're right here, too. Just in the other room."

I flipped my light on and let out a surprised scream.

"Sammy! I've been robbed! Call the police! Call security!"

All my stuff was gone. All my MAC cases, all my products, everything. I ran into the bathroom.

"They took everything in the bathroom, too! Sammy! Call 911!" I screeched. "I think I'm gonna throw up," I said to myself. I was shaking.

He picked me up and put me under the covers. I peered at him and he stared back at me with one raised eyebrow and a knowing look. (Oh - those bastards!)

"Sammy! What the f…." I spit out.

He ignored my antics and pulled the blankets up over me, sitting on the side of my bed. He ran his fingers back off my face, wiping away a tear that had slipped out.

"Dean and I think you need a little more of a lesson than just going to bed early and a grilled cheese," he said, looking at me with sympathy, but not looking sorry at all.

"But… I love my stuff, Sammy. It's all I have."

"No, it isn't, baby. You are so much more than all that."

"I'll be ugly without it all," I sobbed.

"Not true, and if you believe that, then I'm glad we took it – for now, this is part of your punishment. And don't you ever leave this room or let anyone in again, do you hear me, Sissy?" His eyes had gone dark.

"I won't Sam – tell Dean – I promise! Just how long? How long until I get it all back?"

He kissed my face and hugged me close.

"That will all depend on you," he said, getting up to go. "Light on!" I reminded. "Love you, Sammy."

"Love you too, honey," he said, leaving the door open a little crack. I knew he has already done the salt in my room and would be re-doing it through the rest of the suite.

I should have never snuck around or lied to them.

Soon all I could hear was the Game of Thrones music and the tops of beer bottles being popped off.

Shame – shame – I thought to myself as I drifted off to sleep. Shame.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank You to all who are reading and reviewing. This chapter is the continuation of a request that the boys treat Hope with a little more discipline because of her behavior. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Chapter 9:**

Bacon. My eyes popped open and I was instantly awake _(I've always been like that. Once my brain turns on – that's it.)_ I went to the bathroom and saw my toothbrush and that my Tom's of Maine toothpaste had been replaced by the hotel brand. Those assholes even took my toothpaste! _(And they knew how much I just loved that toothpaste. They had gone too far.)_

I made my way across the room, noticing one of the bureau drawers open. _(No way – they would NEVER…)_

My clothes! There was barely anything left! _(Four pair of white socks? REALLY? Is this how they live?)_ Four underwear and four of my most unflattering Victoria's Secret bras. _(They didn't leave me even ONE push-up!)_

I rifled through what was left in the closet and drawers, finding the most mundane of all colors and combinations: Black, Brown, White, and Green. All my pink was gone. _(Now that was just hitting below the belt. I have pink hair for God's sake!)_ I finished my inventory with four long sleeves, two jeans, one jean skirt with a flounce at the bottom, one sweatshirt _(they took my favorite Black Dog bright pink sweat that I'd ordered from a store on Martha's Vineyard)_ , and three pair of shoes: my Sketchers sneaks, my sandals, and my blue DKNY's with the small heel that I wear with my skirt.

They were pretty thorough. I was furious – they invaded my privacy, took my things, and over what? A few little white lies and an innocent mistake _! (It would be okay, though, I would just talk to them. I'll give them my best petulant look and whip up some tears if I had to. They hated it when I cried.)_ I took a steadying breath stepped out.

Sam was at the table, per the usual nerd. Dean was making breakfast. Neither one of them looked at me.

"Okay you guys, you've made your point. I get it. I am really, really sorry that I screwed up and I won't ever do any of those things again. Now, I want my toothpaste… please," I added.

"Morning, Little," Dean said from the kitchen. He pointed at the plates. "Wanna set the table?" he said before turning around to finish.

I was confused. Maybe my usual wouldn't work this time. Maybe this time I had to re-think it all. _(Hell with it – Nah.)_

"Not really, but sure, you give me back my toothpaste and I'll set the table," I said, staring at his back.

"Hope, set the table," Sammy said from behind me, using that calm, no-nonsense voice I hated. I looked over and he hadn't even looked up when he spoke! _(Talk about rude!)_

"Not until I get my toothpaste back." _(I was standing firm.)_

"Hope, set the table or you'll find out what that chair over there is for," Dean responded.

I looked over and they'd put one of the pub-style chairs in the corner, facing out.

"What the heck is THAT?" I asked, laughing.

"It's your time-out chair, Little," Dean said. "Go ahead, laugh it up." He was totally serious.

"I haven't had a time-since I was four years old. This is ridiculous," I argued.

"Wrong, Hope-ster. You had one last night, remember?" Sam butted his stupid head in. "You do remember last night, don't you," he asked, looking through me. _(Condescending jerk!)_

"Of course I remember – but, that was a one time thing! It was… what do you call it? An anomaliity? Abnormalty?"

"Anomaly," he corrected.

"Yeah, that! Last night was an anomaly!" I said, flipping my hair from one shoulder to the other.

"Something tells me it wasn't," Sam stated.

"So I'll ask you one more time to set the table," Dean tagged on to what Sammy said. _(They always did that, they FED off one another, it was happening right now.)_

"I just want my toothpaste back. Come on, Dean. I'm fifteen years old – and I want my toothpaste!" I wailed.

"And having a tantrum like a two year old isn't gonna get it back," Sam said, standing. "You're in time-out, fifteen minutes. GO," he ordered.

 _(Who ARE these guys? Where are my brothers? This was not going as planned. Time for the waterworks.)_

"No, I won't… no fair, you guys! Two against one!" I yelled, pushing tears from my eyes that were ready to fall anyhow.

Sam was next to me in one long stride.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked, easily lifting me up with one arm around my waist.

"Put me down, Sammy – I mean it! What's gotten into ME? What's gotten into YOU TWO?" I yelled as I tried to twist out of his grip. "You used to be so nice to me! You used to do everything for me! You don't love me anymore!" I sobbed.

He plopped me into the chair and put his hand on his hip _(his "I'm Mr. Serious" stance.)_

"No talking in time out. We'll talk after. Fifteen minutes."

"Toothpaste stealers! And don't think I can't tell you used my shampoo, Dean! Your hair's never looked so good!" I barked at them both.

Dean tilted his head, with just the hint of a smile, letting me know I was right. He shrugged.

Sam looked down at me, hand still on hip. I swiped the tears off my cheeks.

"Are you done?" he asked, running his hand back through my hair to get it off my face. I nodded. He turned to Dean and nodded.

"Setting the timer for fifteen minutes, starting now," he said.

 _(This was humiliating. I was embarrassed. They were right – I did have a tantrum. Over toothpaste. I sat there and kept my mouth shut, waiting for the timer go off, so we could talk. I had to apologize. This was already spiraling out of control. They obviously were trying to teach me some kind of lesson. UGH.)_

SPNSPNSPN

The timer went off with a loud 'ding'!

"Come on over and have breakfast, Little," Dean said amicably.

I slid down off the pub chair and walked over to the table. Sam had brought the plates over. I felt really bad. I made my plate and went and nuked it, because everything got cold…

I looked at my brothers, and thought about how hard they worked to keep me safe. I totally ignored everything they told me about staying safe when they were gone. They were mad, but they were SCARED… afraid something would come for me and take me away from them, because I didn't follow the simple safety rules they had taught me since I could pour salt.

They were so patient. When I was little, I just did everything they wanted because I loved them, but I didn't know WHY I was doing it – it just made them happy, so it made me happy. I'd wear my special necklace with the charm because they gave it to me, not because it kept me safe. I didn't even know what it did until much later. They were very serious when they put it on me, telling me to never, ever take it off and to always tell them if it felt loose. Later, when I found out why, I didn't want anything to do with any of it. It terrified me. Everything about what they did, where they went – I didn't want to know. I didn't want to think about it. I liked clothes, and make-up, and girl stuff. I focused on the time we had together, not the stuff they did when we were apart.

It made me angry sometimes that this was their choice, I mean, who chooses that? It made me feel like they chose strangers over me, but the truth is, they always put me first. They gave me whatever I wanted, and rarely punished me unless I out and out deserved it. My childhood with them was full of hugs and kisses and trips to the mall. I let them teach me self defense because I'm a girl, but fat chance I'll ever need to use it with them around. And I love that about them. They knew I was afraid of the dark, afraid of spirits, afraid of it all – and they never made me feel less like a Winchester for it. I just couldn't handle it, the fact that all of it was real. So I chose to love them, but not their jobs. I hated every tragic story that took them from me.

I would always do well until the night before they left. Then I would slowly lose it. They would take turns reassuring me, holding me, talking to me… until it was just me crying and them holding me until I fell asleep. It was always that way. The next day they would leave to help people who probably wouldn't remember even who they were.

"… hear me?" A voice came from behind me and I jumped. Dean's hand fell on my shoulder.

I had been standing by the microwave all this time, caught up in my thoughts.

I had been standing there crying. Thinking and crying.

"Come on, Little, sit down so we can talk," Dean said, grabbing my plate and walking back to the table with me.

I sat and looked at Sam and Dean, and tried to smile, but I was genuinely sad.

"Why the tears, Little Pink?" Sam asked, reaching out to hold my hand.

I breathed in a shallow breath, and then another. I wanted to open my mouth and say all the things I was thinking, all my epiphanies, but my mouth had dried up and my throat felt like sandpaper. I felt light, like an un-tethered balloon, just so floaty and happy all of the sudden, I had that feeling of going up, up, up … I was a kite, I was a bird, I was…

… I was unconscious.

I heard Sammy's voice, whispering in my ear.

"C'mon baby, just open your eyes for me… Hope Winchester: Open. Your. Eyes," came his voice again, firmer and more of an order than a request. I tried my best to pry them open.

"S'mmy? Dean? Dark…" I murmured.

I felt a cool cloth over my eyes and when it was lifted my eyes opened with it.

Dean was smiling down at me from my side; Sammy was looking at me upside down _(My head must have been on his lap.)_

"A lot lighter with your eyes open, huh, Little?" Dean said.

I pulled to sit myself up and felt Sam's hands press my shoulders back down.

"I can get up, ya dork, I just got a little dizzy. Let's go have our talk," I whined.

Sam pulled me up so I was in a somewhat sitting position, leaning against his chest. Dean handed me a glass with OJ in it. I connected the dots.

"Drink up, Sissy. You're not moving from here until it's all gone," Sam said with his arm crossed protectively across my chest.

I did as I was told. My brothers could go from being steaming mad at me to lethally overprotective within minutes. I knew I just needed to sit there and drink the juice. "All gone," I said, finishing it off and tilting my head back so I could see his face.

"There's our good girl," Sam said, sounding like nothing at all had happened over the past day. He lifted me up and carried me over to the couch.

"Jeesh, Sam, I can walk ya know," I fussed.

"Oh, hush – let your brother hold you for a minute, pink girl. Just sit here with us for a few and get your bearings."

I rested my head and "got my bearings." The juice had helped a lot. I just couldn't keep quiet any more.

"I'm so sorry, you guys. I mean, for everything. You both have taught me better. I ignored the simplest concepts to stay safe when you're away, and I was more interested in having my own fun than thinking smart – the way you taught me."

Dean nodded me on, encouraging me to continue. "And?"

 _(And?)_

"Umm… and by putting my safety at risk, it's like ignoring you directly?" I asked.

"Are you asking or telling us, Hopie?" Sam pressed.

"I'm … I'm telling you. Just because I don't want to be a part of the hoodoo-juju that you guys are a part of, doesn't mean I don't have to follow the rules you've taught me since … well, as long as I can remember. I'll never make that mistake again. My word."

"Oh, honey we know. We aren't nearly done with this. We aren't mad anymore, but we are worried about you," Dean admitted.

I sat up between them, interested now in what they were thinking about me.

"You think I'm a bad person, you think I'm shallow, and not really a Winchester," I blurted out. _(Did I really think they thought that? Where did that come from?)_

Dean shook his head, as if clearing a foggy memory. "What? Huh? Where did THAT come from?" he demanded.

Sam cut in before I could answer. "Is that what you think about yourself, Little? That you're a bad person, shallow, and not really a Winchester?"

I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I pushed my face forward onto my legs to hide my face. Maybe I did think that. I dunno.

I felt my brother's huge, callused hands on my cheeks, lifting them up to look him in the eye. It's very hard to look directly at either of these two when they have their game faces on.

It was impossible to move my face away, so I looked back at Sam. "Maybe I do," I caved, feeling defeated. "Why would you take all my cool stuff if you didn't think I was shallow and spoiled? Why would you make me sit in a time out chair like a four year old if you didn't think I was a bad person and wanted me to remember it in the worst way? And let's face it, guys; I'm the diametrical opposite of both of you. I'm a crybaby, scairdy-cat – _'just wanna go to the mall and watch movies with you guy's girl'._ Not exactly textbook Winchester material here."

Sam let go of my face. He took his index fingers and put them between my eyebrows, then proceeded to bring them up and trace a heart on my face, ending at my chin. "I have never heard such bullshit in all my life. You drinking from Dean's flask?" he said with a smile. "You goof."

Dean's hand flew protectively to his inner jacket pocket, pure instinct. He patted it reassuringly. He finally spoke.

"Listen up, Little Pink – We took your stuff because, well… ya got a lot of shit. And you love your shit, so therefore, we took your shit away from you. It's called pun-ish-ment, and Sammy and I realized we've kinda gone soft on you. There's only so many punishments we can dole out now, so it seemed like a good idea to scale you back for awhile. The time out chair was totally Sammy's idea," he finished, passing the baton back to my other older brother.

Sam furrowed his brow, running his hands down his thighs. "So, honey, the time out chair is a permanent thing and I'll tell you why. It's not to humiliate you – I know you think that. We would never do that. It's because you get so wound up, that we think you need a place to have your own space and think. You spent a lot of time there when you were little-little."

I had no memory of that. I was in time out a lot? Hmmm…

"Why not just send me to my room then?

"Because your room is too distracting. We want you to be somewhere we can see you and watch you process," Sam stated as if it were the most obvious reason in the world.

"It's embarrassing."

"We know, but that's not its intent or purpose," Sam said patiently.

"Its purpose is to give me space to process what's going on and what you want me to understand?" I mirrored back to him.

"Exactly."

"I don't like it Sam. Deanish. I REALLY don't like it…" I mused.

"Well that's kinda the idea, Little, ya get us?" Dean threw in.

I crossed my arms and made my best pouty face.

They both broke out in laughter.

"Oh my God, you are so ADORABLE when you do that pouty face thing! Remember when she would do it when she was, like, four, Dean? She's be in her fairy princess costume with the wings and we'd put her in time out and she'd make that face and we just wanted to scoop her up?"

Dean threw his head back at the memory. "OH, man, she was the fuckin' cutest thing ever. Still is," he said, looking at me and winking.

I got it. They loved me. They loved me enough to punish me when I deserved it. They guided me. Helped me become a good person.

"Okay, guys, I understand, I've lost most of my stuff for awhile and I accept that. I guess you have to get going - to do whatever it is you do when you get all dressed up?" _(Say no, please say no – say not today, today is for us.)_

"Actually, Little Pink – we talked and decided to spend the day with our exasperating and adorable little sister," Sammy said, giving me a wink of his own.

"REALLY? What are we doing? Tell!" I squealed, excited. _(What would it be? Mani-Pedi? The Mall? I-Max?)_

"To show we're not heartless, we're giving you twenty dollars to spend WISELY to replace the products we took from you. We will be shopping at the local Wal-Mart," Dean declared.

I froze. Oh, no we aren't. I had an epiphany. A vision of genius. I could do better.

"Umm…guys, I think I'd rather hit that Dollar Tree I saw down the road a ways. More bang for my buck, ya know?"

Their faces were hilarious to view. It was like I hit them both with a baseball bat.

"Seriously?" Sammy asked.

"Seriously,YES!" I yelled, jumping up, trying to show the same enthusiasm as if I were going to the mall. "Let's go shopping, then come back and have pizza and watch movies all day!" I was jumping around now, hanging off of them and swinging back and forth off of their forearms. I did a flip on Sammy's – he was like a tree. Dean took me and I did a back flip off both of his arms, in the space in between his body and mine.

"To the Dollar Tree!" I shouted.

"You're a crazy girl," Sam said, hugging me sideways.

"You're a Winchester!" Dean yelled, grabbing me from Sam's hug and spinning me around like one of those dancer's from the 1940's.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hi, guys! We're about to head into my favorite time of the year! After this chapter, we're also about to head into some darker stuff with Hope. Questions will be answered! I really wanted this one to stay light and funny, but it apparently wants to go somewhere else – and all I can do is follow it and put it on laptop paper!**

 **Chapter 10:**

We pulled into the somewhat sad-looking parking lot of the small strip-mall that had the big green DOLLAR TREE sign on the front. I had my twenty dollars and a plan to show my brothers _(the twits)_ that they weren't as all-knowing as they thought they were. They had basically reduced me to a materialistic money-grubber! _(Not that I have anything against money or the nicer things it can buy. But seriously – do I put them down for the comfort they find in cleaning their guns religiously? To each their own!)_ Anyhow, Little Pink is about to school them epically. I wasn't only about money. Or things. I have a heart. I have fears and dreams, but I made them angry so they punished me by taking away my "stuff." If they only knew I loved my stuff, but I could live without it. That stupid time-out chair hurt more than them taking all my Sephora. And Sammy says it stays. Ugh. Jerks. But I love them. I love my Jerks. It's complicated.

I opened the door to make my way into the store and heard two doors open behind me. I turned and saw my brothers readying themselves to follow.

"Oh, come on you two – I don't need tailed in a Kentucky Dollar Tree! _(Did that sentence really just come out of my mouth? WOW. Kentucky Dollar Tree.)_ BUT, I know my brothers, and knew they would follow, so I used it to my advantage. It was important for them to see.)

"We aren't TAILING you, Little," Dean said, adjusting his jacket to cover the gun he was packing. "Think of it more as stalking, right Sammy?" he laughed, shoving Sam sideways.

Sam shoved him back, grinning and looking at me. "We just don't want anything to happen to you," he said. "And I'm curious," he added.

I gave him my best WTF look. _(He didn't know what it meant.)_

"Hey, don't give me "What The Fuck" look, Pink – didn't think I knew what that look meant did ya?" he said sharply, running in front of me and raising me up above his shoulders. _(God he was so freaking fast and, apparently, could read me even better than I thought.)_ He was smiling, but his eyes sent me a clear message. "Watch it, Little" is what they said.

"Deeaaan, Sammy won't put me down so I can go into the Kentucky Dollar Tree and spend my twenty dollars you both gave me because you're not heartlessssss…." I tattled in my whiny voice.

He came up behind me and tickled my sides. "Then watch those looks you're throwin', baby," he said with a wink. Sam shook me in the air a few times and planted me on the ground.

I enter the store and found it surprisingly clean. I felt bad. I had expected dirt-covered boxes and dust in the air. _(Was I kinda a jerk for that? Yes, yes I was.)_

"Hi, welcome to Dollar Tree, let me know if I can help you find anything," a pretty girl with a sweet drawl said to me. _(AND she had a full set of teeth! I was learning things all over the place and I just walked in the door! I was also a jerk for assuming she wouldn't have a full set of teeth.)_

"Thanks, I'm just gonna browse for a few things," I said, knowing exactly what I was getting. Revenge on the brothers.

Grabbing a carriage, I went directly to the cosmetics and the health/beauty section. I was surprised to see some really well known brands, like Cover Girl and another I had seen a lot in stores called "Wet and Wild". Awkward when your brothers are spying on your every move. I wasn't wet or wild, and they saw to that completely. I really wasn't anyhow.

I grabbed a dark mascara and a palette of browns. They also had the Elf brand, so I bought a slanted brush that I could use as liner and also tame my brows. A clear gloss finished my purchases there. I had spent four dollars.

It wasn't very busy in the store, which made my gargantuan bros stick out like sore thumbs. _(THESE were the two best hunter/blender-ers in the U.S.? They weren't blending very well as far as I was concerned. It was perfect.)_

I began to meander my way down the aisle and found a Secret deodorant and some Vanilla Sugar bubble bath, and a jasmine body lotion _(I checked – it wasn't runny at all!)_ Also grabbed razors - who knew the Dollar Tree held so many treasures? I also picked up a jar of Vaseline – you can use it for everything… Up to nine dollars.

I turned to check out the women's section across the aisle. I knew I had to move fast because they would NOT want to stalk me eyeing the tampons. Instead, I quickly grabbed two pregnancy tests, using my most serious look. I could feel their eyes on me. Dean's had to be pure rage and Sam's had to be absolute confusion. I was dying inside, trying not to fall over laughing.

I took my time pretending to scrutinize the back of the test, then looked around to see if anyone was in the aisle. Very cloak and dagger-ish. I tried to look as clandestine as I could, and slid them into my pocket. I walked around a bit more, then went back and returned the tests. I tried to look torn. _(Served them right for assuming I was a shallow, mean girl! Screw the time out chair! I was Baby Sister, hear me roar!)_

I went and found a vanilla candle and put two in the carriage. Up to eleven dollars. Time to head for the snack aisle.

I got two M&M's for Dean, and two trail mixes for Sam. Up to fifteen. That left four for me, because of tax. I threw in a pack of gummy bears, plus I found some Hershey's Kisses, sunflower seeds, and Ju-Ju Bees. I hadn't seen those in years! They were my favorite from childhood. Sammy hated that Dean bought them for me; he said they would rot my teeth. He wasn't wrong, but the fillings were worth it. Score one for Dean and score one for Kentucky.

I pushed my haul toward the checkout and began placing my items up on the belt. There was a divider between the small family in front of me and my stuff. There were three little ones along with their mother. She had put some food on the belt, and one pack of chewing gum.

"Momma, PLEASE let me have my own – you said I could have mine if I was good. I was so good today," the dirty-blonde begged.

"Karlah, shhh, people can hear you," her mother admonished her. "You'll have to share the gum with your brother and sister until next payday."

"You ALWAYS say that," the little girl cried, crossing her arms in anger.

I decided I had to do something for her. Before I put much thought into it, I threw my four treats aside and grabbed four chewing gums, kneeling down next to her.

"Hey, know what?" I said, giving her my brightest smile.

"Your hair's pink. I like pink," she said, showing me her fingernails that had chipped pink polish on them.

"It looks like you do!" I said back to her. "Guess what?" I asked.

"What?" she said, all curiosity and eyes now.

"I have four extra dollars and I don't know what to do with them," I smiled. I put my hands up in the air to emphasize my point.

"And I found these packs of gum, so I thought maybe you could take these, and use this extra four dollars that I don't know what to do with. Maybe you can pay for them all by yourself, like a big girl, and share them with everyone. What do you think?"

She looked up at her mother, silently questioning whether she should say yes or not. He mother made a slight nod and she squealed with delight.

"Yes, yes, YES! You're a nice pink girl," she said excitedly.

"Just remember to be nice to the next person you meet who's sad, okay?" I said.

She nodded solemnly, placing the gum up on the belt.

I watched the mother pay for her things with some rolled up nickels and thought again about how very lucky I was. How differently my life could have been, if not for my brothers – those two knuckleheads who tried to balance me against saving the world every day. I **was** very selfish, in many ways. In that moment I saw myself, whining about them leaving me. Complaining about not being taken out to the mall more often, and how they would give into me time and time again, two grown men following along behind me like very dangerous puppies. I thanked the pretty cashier with the full set of teeth, and walked out the door with tears threatening to spill over my eyes.

My brothers weren't trying to be quiet as I heard them clomping behind me in a run, grabbing my bags from both sides and each reaching under a knee to pull me up into a sitting position in the air between them.

"Ya know, that was pretty nice of you back there, Sweetie," Dean commented, smacking me on the cheek with a sloppy kiss.

"I can be nice," was all I said back, returning his cheek kiss minus the slop. The tears spilled over and down my face as I turned away and looked down.

"Hope? What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Sammy asked, reaching over and grabbing me into his arms like I was a two year old.

"Jeez, keep walking at least," I said, feeling stupid. "I'm just thankful. Thankful I have both of you," I answered, squeezing his neck and giving him his own kiss on the cheek. He squeezed me back, starting at the top of my shoulders and moving all the way down, cracking my back for me. He did that a lot – he said I carried too much anxiety in my back. It felt glorious.

We pulled out of the parking lot, Dean tearing into his M&M's and Sam munching on his trail mix.

"I know two selfish bothers who should be sharing with their hungry sister," I said to the air.

"It'll ruin your lunch," Dean said. I could see a rainbow dancing on his tongue in the rearview mirror.

Sammy looked back at me. "Up for some Chinese? Maybe even some sushi on a non-Tuesday?"

"I'm down," I smiled. I was starving.

Then Baby pulled over, so fast I thought we had a flat tire. Dean turned and glared at me.

"Is there something you want to tell us, Little?" he asked, tongue still colorful and defying the sound of his voice. Sammy had an "Aha Moment" and turned, giving me his serious look. I had no idea.

Then I remembered the pregnancy tests and inwardly did a happy dance while I watched them squirm and fuss. I let some time pass, and acted like I was thinking. _(I was an excellent actress – HA!)_

"Just messin' with ya," I said casually. "You know, teaching the teacher."

"Huh? Sam, tell her to make sense."

"This trip was for you both to show me you weren't heartless by taking away all my good stuff. But that was your side of it. My side of it was to show you that I don't need that stuff, and I could spend my twenty and still have room for something for you ass -, I mean jerks. The little girl at the register was just luck, and the pregnancy tests – just messing with ya," I finished. "Wish I coulda seen your faces, though!"

I started laughing. And laughing.

"You're a dingbat," Dean said.

"Pixie, you little shit," Sammy said.

Giggling bubbled up inside me, all the way to the Chinese takeout joint. I knew I was the luckiest girl out there…

… and then the dreams came with the faceless bad man.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** **And back to Hope! Sorry guys, my true intent was to keep Hope VERY fun and light, and she will get back there, because as we all will find out, she is a survivor. Already was one, but this is going to go darker before lighter. I will place trigger warnings, and also the maturity levels as continued… I LOVE Hopie! She has the best brothers in the world!**

 **Chapter 11:**

I could never tell them. It's not that they wouldn't believe me – I knew they would, and it would make them crazy. THAT'S why I couldn't tell them.

We had been back from Kentucky for a week, and the dreams came since the day we went to the Dollar Tree. Maybe they were always there, just beyond the reach of my memory, like a song you know every word to, but can't remember the name of. Maybe my conscious mind blocked them. Maybe I used up all my good fortune and happy being found by my brothers and being raised up to this point by them - it just wasn't meant to last forever. I couldn't tell them, and I didn't want to tell them. They would blame themselves, and it wasn't their fault. It wasn't my fault either. They had given me more love and happiness than any one girl deserved; the least I could do was keep this secret. As much as I could remember, that is, because I'd lose the dream as soon as I awoke, left behind with a hollow and empty feeling. I needed to keep them happy because it made me happy. It helped it be less real for me, too. I became Hope Winchester, actress extraordinaire.

I was doing a fabulous job – I just knew it! It was like the old days. I'd ride around on Sammy's back, then spider-monkey jump over to Dean's. Out for pizza. IN for pizza. Chinese. AND sushi Tuesdays! I wore my pink flannels and made fun of them, and most importantly, I didn't see the time-out chair so… obviously… lurking around. OH, I knew it was around, and not far _(I knew my brothers better than that)_ – they just moved it _'out of the way'_. Good. Because the first chance I got I was burning it! Of course, that could complicate things. Like new chairs. And a sore behind. Even one swat from either of them stung for days!

It had been about a month and the dreams were still pressing. I woke early in the morning of the fifth week to find them just sitting and staring at me, speaking in low whispers.

"I love you guys, but this is creepy as fu… as all get out," I corrected.

They both kinda slouched down in their chairs.

"Whaaat?" I pushed. Shit. They were leaving again. Not taking me this time.

I sat up in my bed, feeling heartsick.

"When? Just tell me when you're leaving," I muttered, looking down and picking at my cuticles. _(When did I start with that?)_

"Hopie, stop picking. That's how the last one got infected," Sammy chastised me.

I had to. I couldn't stop. I didn't look up and I just…had…this…one…piece…

He was silently sitting on the edge of my bed with a washcloth, wrapping it around my hand. Dean stood behind him, his lip formed in a tight line and some medicine cabinet stuff in his hands. _(When did he go in my bathroom? I never even heard them move.)_

"I **told** you to stop doing that, Little! Come on, babe, you love your hands. This can't keep going on," he scolded me as he unwrapped my finger that was shredded and bloody. "Fuck. Dean, I need betadine and gauze this time. Tape. A cool washcloth, too, please."

Dean was there and back, dumping it in front of Sam along with a plastic cup. He filled the cup with solution and tried to put my finger down in it.

"Uh, no…. What's going on? It's just a cuticle! Stop treating me like a baby! Just wrap the damn thing up or I'll do it myself!" _(Overprotective dudes just need to let a sister grow up!)_

Sam's eyes were dark brown … whatever time it was. He firmly held my wrist, and gave me his no-nonsense look, all the while speaking to Dean to hold onto my legs.

"We are trying to help you. You will accept our help. No kicking, no biting," he said as he turned my hand upside down and into the antiseptic. I let out a bloodcurdling scream. I kicked but Dean got my calf and that was it. I took my other arm up and Sammy simply reached forward _(with lots of length to spare)_ , and held my shoulder in place. "I'm sorry, Little," he said without sounding sorry. "We asked you to be good this time." _(THIS time? Why does he keep saying that?)_

Dean was rubbing my calves, massaging them to take my mind off the searing pain going through my hand and up my arm.

"It'll be okay, we'll get this figured out, I swear to God we will figure this out," he said, green eyes peering into my brown. Brown like Sammy's, except his changed sometimes, into a mossy green with flecks of sunflower gold. Mine just stayed brown.

"WHAT are you two talking about? Everything is FINE. Are you high? Are you guys drunk AND high? Things have been great since we got home from Kentucky."

They looked like I had begun elevating from the bed, with full head spin.

"What? Sammy, take my finger out now. It doesn't even burn." He began to slowly wipe my finger down, making me grit my teeth. "Are you TRYING to make me cry? Do you WANT it to hurt so much? Ever hear of dabbing a …"

I looked down. I had torn the skin from the top of my cuticle all the way to the third knuckle. Shredded.

I skidded up to the head of my bed. "What the fuck is THAT? Who did that? What's going on? Dean? Dee? Sammy? You're scaring me!" I started to hit my head against the backboard, hard enough for Dean to come and press it against his shoulder, holding my chin to his chest. "Shhh…it's okay. We're here and we aren't going anywhere. Let Sam finish and we can talk."

At the mention of his name, my youngest older brother looked at me and smiled. He took my cruddy hand that was wrapped and kissed it. "Baby- Pink – one sec." Then he was returning, wiping his _(no doubt)_ ten times washed hands. Seriously, I think he does that counting thing when hand washing. Dork. _(I apparently still maintained some humor, despite whatever the hell was going on.)_

"What time is it? Why were you in here?" I was scared, and annoyed.

"It's two am honey. We were in here checking on you before hitting the rack," Sam said. "We can talk more as soon as you take the pills Dean has for you."

Dean held out his hand. Two pills, a green one and a white one. A water.

"Dean? Sam? I don't wanna take pills!" (I could hear the whine in my voice.) "Whyyy?" I looked up at Dean.

"And don't say because you say so! Tell me."

"To keep your constantly infected hands from being amputated, and to keep you calm," he answered, nodding toward them. He handed me a water. "Open, sweetie," he said, putting them back on my tongue while I swooshed them down.

"I know, I know… 'drink it all – you're dehydrated'," mimicking Sam.

"Well, you are, and now you can have another when you're done with that one, miss smart mouth," he big brother looked at me.

I ignored him. "I wanna talk," I said, and folded my arms across my chest.

Dean looked at me. "Look at that face, Sammy. Remember when she'd do that when she was little? She's cross her arms in front of her." He shook his head, remembering. "Adorable."

Sam looked over at me, softening. "Still adorable," he said to me.

SPNSPNSPN

"Okay, little, just a teenie talk for a teenie girl right now," Dean stated.

"Oh-kayy," I replied.

They both scooted in on either side of me, but facing me, so I could see them both.

"What do you remember? As much detail as possible, Pink," Sammy said.

"Well, duh," I sassed back at him.

"Keep it up, Hope," Sam said firmly.

"But my fingers… owie," I said, not exactly a lie, either. Just meant it for manipulation and pity.

"Answer," he said.

I looked at Dean, but his face was glued to mine.

I heaved a sigh, the kind when you know you're examining to two twits what they already know.

"We came back from Kentucky a month ago. We've been having a good time because you haven't had any hunts longer than a day and we've been making the most of it. We watched all of Wired and you guys even watched The Wizard of Oz with me. I woke up and thought you were creepy, but telling me you were leaving for a long hunt this time." I raised my bandaged hand with my other, the universal symbol for 'that's it.'

Dean: "It's been almost two months."

Sam: "You've barely gotten out of bed, unless we forced you."

Dean: "You don't want to go to the mall."

Sam: "You don't want your nails done."

The worst came last –

"You stopped coloring your hair pink."

I felt my mouth opening and closing, like a fish outta water. That was me.

I shook my head. I violently shook my head.

"Nooo…no! Impossible! You guys just go sleep it off; we'll eat in the AM. Seriously, you have to stop, Dean. You're a borderline alcoholic and Sam's at your back. Go, let me sleep," I huffed.

"Oh, Hopie," I heard Sam say. He looked at Dean and they nodded. He leaned forward and slid his hands under my knees and armpits, and lifted me. He carried me and placed me in front of my full length mirror, Dean beside us.

"Look, honey – REALLY look," Dean said. "Cuz something is going on with you and we can't let it continue."

I swayed on my feet and felt their hands on my shoulders. I stepped closer. Closer, until I was almost pressed against it.

"Easy, Pink," Sam reassured me.

"We'll figure this out, baby. Together," Dean said.

"This is impossible. No. I would never. NEVER! You know me! I would never let this happen," the mouth of the hollowed-out shell of a girl said in the mirror. Her hair was grown out from the roots brown – half pink to the ends. Her fingernails were gone. She had no makeup on; despite the massive quantities behind her she could see reflected in the mirror. Simply put, she was a horror show.

And she was me.

"I need to lay," I said, trying to take the "new me" fully in. I was scooped by a brother and tucked in.

"But… but, you rode me horseback, Sammy – and I'd jump onto Dean, and back and forth…" I trailed off.

"Shhh…. Baby, we have you and we will ride horseback. I promise. For now close your eyes and we will be here in the morning to figure this out," he said as he kissed my forehead and both my cheeks.

"Dean? Dean, can you help me? I'm scared," I cried to my oldest.

"Help you? Baby Pink, I'd die for you. Now close those eyes," he said, touching my gross hair.

"Need to eat. Need bubble bath," was the last thing I remember saying.

SPNSPNSPN

"Lucky for her she doesn't know we've been keeping up with her hygiene," Sam sighed, wiping his hand across his eyes.

"Yeah, well Jody has been doing it is all she needs to know. IF she asks. You wanna take first?" Dean asked.

"Sure. She should be out for awhile. Why can't we find anything? Not a thing?" Sam said in frustration.

"I dunno, bro, but now that she knows some of this, uhh… fantasy she's been living… maybe we can get some answers."

Sam heard the door close and settled in with his book.


End file.
